


Es Absurdum

by SunflowerSupreme



Series: Kinktober 2020 [5]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Breathplay, Cock Rings, Deepthroating, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Master/Slave, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape Roleplay, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, you know despite the tags this is mostly just two idiots being soft and having one braincell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26918554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSupreme/pseuds/SunflowerSupreme
Summary: Geralt is still owed a “slave for a day” since his lover lost their bet.Kinktober 2020: Master/Slave
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Kinktober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959532
Comments: 4
Kudos: 142
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I fit a bunch of Kinktober prompts into this fic:  
> Day 3: Orgasm Denial  
> Day 4: Breath Play  
> Day 17: Master/Slave  
> Day 25: Bondage  
> Day 30: Deepthroating
> 
> Is my Latin perfect? Probably not. I did some of it myself (thanks High School) but some of it i just ran through Google Translate.

The day for Dandelion’s lost bet had finally arrived, and Geralt was admittedly looking forward to bossing the poet around for a day. He’d thought it would just be a simple, time, perhaps with a bit of sex thrown in, but Dandelion had - as usual - taken it to the extreme.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

Dandelion was wrapped in a white sheet, looking rather proud of himself. “A toga!” He was also, to Geralt’s amusement, wearing a collar.

“That’s a bedsheet.”

“No! It’s a toga. Well, it’s also a bedsheet, but at the moment-”

“You’re wearing a bedsheet, Dandelion.”

The bard folded his arms. “You have no imagionation, Geralt,” he grumbled. Then he theatrically bowed, sweeping his hand in a broad gesture and nearly dropping his bedsheet. “Serve meus est et ego vivo.” _(I live to serve my master)_

Geralt snorted. “Es absurdum.” _(You’re absurd)_

Dandelion had been delighted to find out that they both spoke Latin. Geralt had grown up reading it, because that was how many monster texts had been recorded, but the singer had apparently learned it as part of his studies of old ballads and poems. Apparently he’d been waiting to use it on Geralt.

“My first order of the day is for you to speak exclusively in English,” Geralt said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Dandelion pouted. “But-” 

“Slaves don’t talk back, Dandelion.” He sat at the kitchen table and ordered Dandelion to cook breakfast - scrambled eggs and toast, something even Dandelion was proficient at. Then, as he ate, he ordered him to wipe down the counters and wash the dishes in the sink.

Dandelion seemed less than pleased. “I thought this was going to be fun,” he complained, scrubbing a pan angrily.

 _It is fun_ , thought Geralt. “That’s your second warning on talking back, Dandelion.” He knew the bard’s game, Dandelion was in a playful mood and no doubt wanted Geralt to be rough with him. Geralt was willing to do that, later, but for the time being it seemed more fun to annoy the poet.

“I’m sorry master,” Dandelion whimpered, bowing his head, then looking up at Geralt through his lashes. “Please don’t punish me.”

The Witcher took a long drink of his juice then held out his cup, “Refill.”

Dandelion took his glass and refilled it, then handed it back to him, bowing and nearly stumbling on his ‘toga’ again. “Kneel,” Geralt said, pointing at the floor beside him. The singer was quick to obey, his eyes darting to Geralt’s crotch with interest.

But as far as Geralt was concerned, it was too early to have his cock sucked. Instead he placed his feet in Dandelion’s lap and said, “Rub my feet.”

Dandelion looked aghast.

“I had a shower this morning,” Geralt said nonchalantly. “Would you have preferred they smell?”

The singer kept his mouth shut, although Geralt could imagine all the curses that were no doubt filtering through his head as he pulled off Geralt’s house shoes and began to rub his feet.

Geralt opened his phone and glanced at the weather. The house was surrounded by woods and often drafty, so they wore long sleeves most days. But it seemed he was in luck, the weather was meant to be warm and sunny. Grinning he pocketed his phone.

He stood and told Dandelion to follow him, leading him toward the door. There he stopped. “Lace my shoes,” he ordered.

Dandelion pouted, but did as he was told, kneeling beside Geralt and helping him into his shoes. When he tried to stand, Geralt put his hand on top of his head to stop him. “Look at me, boy,” he ordered. “Such a pretty boy in your fancy dress.”

“Toga,” Dandelion grumbled.

“But you’re so clumsy, if you wore your nice clothes outside they’d get all muddy, wouldn’t they boy?”

Dandelion’s eyes widened and Geralt grinned. “Strip,” he ordered.

Dandelion wasn’t wearing any underwear, it seemed. When he dropped the bedsheet his cock and balls were on full display. “It’s historically accurate!” he said brightly.

“You’re a slut for accuracy, I suppose,” teased Geralt, pushing him out the door.

Geralt led him out toward the old barn. In the days before automobiles, he’d kept horses to get around, but those had fallen out of style years ago and had become an added expense he hadn’t cared for.

Most of his income no longer came from monster hunting - although he did still occasionally get calls - instead he was a professor, lecturing on the history of myth and magic (he’d met Dandelion when the man had been a graduate student). In more recent years, even before the pandemic, he’d started working remotely, and had finally given into his desire for another horse.

“Shall I tack up Roach, master?” Dandelion asked as they approached the stable.

“Do you know how to tack a horse?” he asked doubtfully, not caring that it broke character.

“I took lessons as a kid,” explained Dandelion.

Geralt snorted. “Muck her stall,” he said with a grin. “I’ll tack her up.”

He allowed Dandelion to wear boots to muck the stall - he kept an extra pair in the tack room for bad weather - and as the poet worked he brushed Roach and put on her tack. The boots were hilarious large, and Dandelion made a point to clomp around loudly.

Geralt laughed at him.

He caught Dandelion, pressing his lips to the singer’s ear. A shiver ran through him. “We’re going on a trail ride,” he explained. “Would you like shoes?”

“Yes.”

Geralt nodded. “Go and grab a pair then.”

Dandelion hurried off. While he was gone, Geralt stepped into the tack room, selecting a long lead rope that he usually used for letting Roach cool down. When Dandelion returned, looking absurd in only his sneakers, Geralt clipped the line to him, then wound it around his saddle as he mounted. “Follow me, boy,” he said, giving the rope a light tug.

Dandelion hurried after him, his eyes gleaming, his cock and balls swaying in the open air.


	2. Chapter 2

He kept Roach at a slow meandering pace, which was easy to Dandelion to keep up with, happily bouncing behind the Witcher with not a care in the world. One benefit of having him on a leash, was that he couldn’t wander off to look at every interesting flower, rock, and tree that they passed.

After a while they stepped out of the trees, onto a grassy hilltop.

“I’m going to get a sunburn,” Dandelion complained as Geralt dismounted. The Witcher reached into his saddle bad and threw sunscreen at him. Then he passed him a container of water, telling him to drink up.

He had Dandelion lay out the blanket he’d packed as he tied Roach to a tree and loosened her saddle. Dandelion did an excellent job of setting up the area, leaning the pillow against a stump and even going so far as to pick wild flowers which he offered to Geralt.

“Put them in your hair.” Geralt sat down and leaned against the pillow, then guided Dandelion to lay beside him.

“If an ant stings me on my cock-” the singer started.

Geralt clucked his tongue, a reminder for him to be quiet. He lit a citronella candle and set it a few feet from them, then opened the basket he’d packed. Dandelion hadn’t seen it’s contents yet, so he craned his neck. “Head down,” Geralt ordered.

Dandelion ducked his head.

Geralt fished out the grapes, then shifted the basket out of Dandelion’s view. He slowly ran his fingers through Dandelion’s hair, knocking aside the flowers the man had placed in them, then slipped his hand under his chin and lifted his head. “Are you hungry, boy?” he asked gruffly.

Dandelion nodded. “Yes, master,” he said, his eyes glittering. “I haven’t broken my fast yet, master.”

Geralt popped a grape into his mouth, making a point to lick his fingers. Dandelion watched him eagerly. “Would you like something, boy?”

“Please, master,” Dandelion whimpered, his large blue eyes gleaming. “I was sent to bed without supper, last night.” 

Geralt knew for a fact he had not been sent to bed without supper, because they’d ordered pizza and laughed when the deliveryman got lost. But if Dandelion wanted to play the part of a starving slave, then Geralt was happy to play along. “Want me to feed you?” he asked gruffly. 

“Please sir,” Dandelion whimpered, arching his back and staring pleadingly at Geralt.

Geralt picked up another grape and Dandelion reached for it, but Geralt smacked his hands away. “Hands behind your back! If you can’t keep them there I’ll tie them.”

Dandelion looked so excited at the prospect that Geralt fetched a silk cord from the picnic basket and tied his wrists together, leaving him vulnerable, barely able to lift his head and shoulders off the ground.

“Roll onto your back,” Geralt said. If they wanted to be ‘historically accurate’ as Dandelion had said, it should have been the slave feeding the master, but it seemed more fun to hold Dandelion against his chest, rubbing his bare stomach with one hand, and feeding him grapes with the other.

Dandelion melted under the attention, licking Geralt’s fingers every time he was offered a grape, making pathetic mewling noises when the Witcher pulled his hand away.

Then Dandelion’s teeth caught on Geralt’s finger - most likely by accident - and he pushed him away. “Ungrateful boy!”

“I’m sorry!” cried Dandelion, in a voice that didn’t sound terribly sorry at all. “Master please, forgive me.” He rolled onto his stomach and stuck his ass in the air, giving Geralt a hopeful look.

“I should have the quartermaster pull out your teeth.”

Dandelion rolled his eyes, but whined, “Please, master, it won’t happen again, I’ll be good.”

Geralt scowled. “Silence, boy. You won’t have supper tonight, but if you’re good, I’ll fill your belly with something else.” The words felt ridiculous, but he could smell the effect it was having on Dandelion and could see the way his eyes widened.

“Master…”

“Quiet.” Geralt continued to eat, watching Dandelion carefully. The singer probably was hungry, seeing as how he hadn’t gotten any breakfast. Game or not, Geralt wasn’t going to withhold food from him for no reason. “Break, Dandelion.”

The poet raised an eyebrow as he dropped out of character. “Yes, Geralt?”

“Are you hungry?”

“I’m fine,” he promised.

Geralt nodded. “Unbreak.”

Dandelion sniffed and made a point of pushing his ass further into the air, wiggling slightly.

“Not a sound, boy.”

Geralt ate a few more grapes, but it wasn’t as much fun without Dandelion, so he put them back in the basket, then motioned for Dandelion to come to him.

“I’m going to untie your wrists,” he said quietly, pulling the cord off the singer’s wrists. “But try to keep them clasped behind your back.”

“You don’t have to-”

Geralt’s tone left no room for argument. “If you start to choke, hit my leg. If you just try to pull back, I’ll assume its part of the game.”

“I see,” said Dandelion, giving a nod.

He pushed himself up and sat on the stump, then pulled Dandelion between his legs, unbuttoning his jeans and freeing his cock. He was only half hard, so he took a moment to stroke himself. Dandelion moaned wantonly at the sight.

“Hungry?” Geralt teased.

“Ravenous.” He winked. Then he swallowed, falling back into character to whisper, “It’s huge, master…”

“Open your mouth.” Geralt pulled Dandelion forward, pressing himself into the singer’s mouth. “Take me all the way, when you’re ready,” he said. “Then we’ll start.” 

Dandelion took a few deep breaths through his nose, then swallowed around Geralt’s cock, taking him all until his nose was against Geralt’s stomach. “Good boy,” Geralt murmured, stroking his hair. Then, as he’d promised, he started, pulling Dandelion back off his cock, then forcing him to take him down again.

The singer was incredibly talented at sucking cock, something he’d boasted about early on in their friendship, so Geralt wasn’t too concerned about harming him.

His eyes rolled back in his head as he roughly fucked the singer’s throating, moaning every time Dandelion’s tongue played with him.

Finally, Geralt spilled down his throat and Dandelion gulped every drop. He kept his fingers clasped tightly in his hair, forcing him to keep his softening cock in his throat. “Did that sate your hunger?”

Dandelion nodded. He was breathing heavily, his face flushed, and Geralt could smell the arousal coming off him. The polite thing to do would be to return the favor and suck him off, but as delightful as that sounded to Geralt, it didn’t seem to be in character. Instead he pulled the singer off his cock, then replaced the cord on his wrists.

Dandelion groaned, realizing he wasn’t going to get the orgasm he so badly wanted. 


End file.
